


You're My Event Horizon

by imagineyou (jokerindisguise), jokerindisguise



Series: Our World Is a Supernova [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Heartbreak, Pre-Apocalypse, Pre-Canon, Teacher-Student Relationship, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:48:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24249820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jokerindisguise/pseuds/imagineyou, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jokerindisguise/pseuds/jokerindisguise
Summary: Prequel toMeet Me Under the Stars.You think the required physical education course for your degree is all bullshit until Coach Negan walks through the door.
Relationships: Negan/reader
Series: Our World Is a Supernova [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1741792
Comments: 28
Kudos: 40





	You're My Event Horizon

**Author's Note:**

> If you have read Meet Me Under the Stars, then I caution you to think about what happens in that and what is mentioned about Negan in that fic. Just trying to warn y'all now. If you have not read Meet Me Under the Stars, I advise you to read the summary of that one to get an idea of what's going on here. 
> 
> This fic has been giving me the worst anxiety this week. If you enjoy it at all, then letting me know would make my day. ❤
> 
> I rated this 'mature' just to be safe.

When you were younger, you thought going away to college would be some magical moment that would solve all of your problems. You assumed you would finally get away from your parents and find yourself. You would make friends and have relationships and spend four years having the best time of your life. 

You really should have known better. 

College turned out to be a lonely existence for you. You had acquaintances and roommates, but you didn't really feel like you were able to make a connection with anyone. You wondered if it was all due to your upbringing that you found yourself having a hard time forging relationships. 

You had long accepted that you weren't going to have a great relationship with your parents. It was a relationship rife with neglect and pain. Most of your good memories with your parents were overshadowed by the constant feeling that you weren't wanted. As far as you were concerned, the closest thing you had to a parent was your uncle Shane. He had always been the one to try to assure you that you were wanted and did his best to spend as much with you as you could. 

Your only saving grace while you were at school was your weekly phone calls to your brother. Every time you talked to him, you couldn't help but think that he was so young and bright. You were glad that your parents at least had a bit more of their shit together, because you knew they doted on Carl. He was always talking about a new toy or going out for a special dinner with your parents. It hurt to hear that Carl was getting the kind of childhood you had always desired, but you couldn't really begrudge him that. It wasn't his fault you had grown up with parents who weren't ready to be parents at a young age and were in no way equipped to be bonded through marriage and parenthood so soon. 

As your first semester closed out, you started picking out your classes for the spring. You were advised to get the general education requirements over early, since that would leave you to focus on your major later. You didn't really get the point of having to take several courses that had absolutely nothing to do with the field of study you picked. You especially didn’t understand why you needed to take a physical education class. In your opinion, it was a waste of money and time. Your degree had nothing to do with it and you hated that you would have to spend months feeling like you were back in your high school gym class. 

By the time your spring semester came, you were sure you were going to dread every Tuesday and Thursday because of the physical education course. The class listing said the teacher was a man named Coach Negan. You had never heard of him, but it was a big campus and you spent most of your free time in your dorm room. You couldn’t help but think that if he was anything like the coaches you had in high school, then he was going to spend most of his time yelling and trying and failing to get everyone to suddenly give a fuck about the class. 

You were prepared to just suffer through the class. You were anxious and in a bad mood by the time you walked into the meeting room where the introductory class was being held. 

You moved to take a desk near the back, keeping your head down as you sat down. You pulled out your notebook and started doodling in the margins, knowing that you weren't actually going to need to take any notes for this class. You had gotten the e-mail from the teacher that outlined what was required for the first class. You were supposed to wear workout clothes. You were supposed to be prepared to run. 

Evidently, a baseline would be taken of every student to see where they were in relation to each other with their fitness. You already knew you were going to hate this class, so you were planning to do the very minimum of what was required of you to pass. The quicker you got it all over with, the better in your opinion. 

Of course, that all changed the moment Coach Negan walked through the door. 

"Alright, kids," he said as he walked into the room. "Let's get this bullshit over with," he continued. 

You briefly noticed the startled looks on the other's faces at Coach Negan's words. You were more interested in watching the man, though. He had a casual swagger that immediately drew your attention to his hips. He had a cocky smirk on his face as he surveyed the class and from the way he considered everyone, you knew he likely didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought of him. He grinned at the room, briefly flashing his teeth, before he licked his lower bottom lip. 

“Well, what the hell are you waiting for?” He carded his fingers through his black hair before he gestured towards the door. “Get your asses to the gym and run some laps.” 

As the others groaned and started grabbing for their bags, you took a moment to lean back in your chair, trying to get a better look at your teacher for the next semester. You couldn't help but think that if _this_ was what was in store for you for the next five months, then maybe this class wouldn't be so terrible. 

You managed to survive your first week in Coach Negan's class. For the first two classes, he made notes of everyone's fitness levels. You had to do push-ups, sit ups, stretches, and all kinds of other exercises you weren't sure actually mattered for the course. You heard him grumble something about ‘bullshit guidelines and requirements’, so you were half-sure he also didn’t see the point in putting you all through the exercises. 

On the second Tuesday, you were instructed to meet out by the baseball fields. Most of the class was gathered in the bleachers when you got there. You settled for leaning against the fence by the bleachers, not really feeling up to trying to get to know your classmates. 

"What are you doing over here when everyone else is over there?" 

You startled and turned to see Coach Negan standing beside you. You had been so distracted that you didn't even notice him join you. He was leaning against the fence next to you with his arms crossed over his chest. You noticed a baseball bat propped up against the fence next to him. 

You shrugged your shoulders in answer, not really sure what you were supposed to say. 

"Not one for socializing, huh? I hate to tell you this, but your grade kind of depends on it." He smirked at you before he pushed himself away from the fence. "Let's go," he said as he nodded over towards the other students before picking up the baseball bat. 

He didn't wait to see if you were going to follow after him. He moved until he was standing in front of the bleachers. Most of the students were so busy talking with each other that they didn't even realize the teacher had finally showed up. 

"Alright, you little shits," Coach Negan called, gaining everyone's attention. "Let's do this." 

"Uh," started one of the students. "Are you allowed to call us that?" 

Negan smirked at the guy. "I control your grade and they're not going to fire me. So, I'll call you whatever the hell I want." 

The guy wisely didn't try to argue with him. 

"Now," Coach Negan started as he swung the baseball bat up to rest on his shoulder. "We're starting our baseball unit this week. That means you're going to listen to my rules and you're not going to try to convince me you know how to play the game already. I frankly don't give a shit what you think. We're playing by my rules or not playing at all." He was looking around at the class, as if attempting to find anyone who was going to dare try to argue, before his eyes landed on you. His eyes dipped for a second, as if he was quickly looking you over, before he glanced back to the class. 

You tried to shake off the blush you could feel reddening your cheeks. You knew there was no way Negan had just checked you out. You were just projecting or trying to see something that definitely wasn’t there. 

You couldn’t lie to yourself about your crush on the man. You hoped you weren't being obvious about checking out Coach Negan as he talked about the dos and don'ts of baseball. You couldn’t really help yourself, though. You had experienced brief crushes and passing attractions, but this felt different. 

You weren't really paying attention to Coach Negan’s speech, so by the time the class was split up into pairs to work on pitching and catching, you couldn't help but feel a little lost. 

"Hey," someone called, pulling your attention away from your teacher. 

You glanced over to see the guy who had questioned Coach Negan earlier. "Hey?" 

"You're Y/N, right?" The guy asked, a nervous smile on his face. 

"Yeah?" You didn't recognize the guy. He looked vaguely familiar now that he had your attention, but you were sure you didn't actually know him. 

"I'm Sam," he offered as he held out his hand for you to shake. 

You stared down at his hand for a moment before slowly reaching out. "It's nice to meet you?" You asked uncertainly. You weren’t really known for your socializing skills, so you were a bit surprised that Sam seemed to somehow know you already. 

"We had a class together last semester. Sociology?" 

You squinted at Sam, trying to place him. You felt like a jackass for not remembering him, since you had obviously made an impression on him. 

"Oh, right," you said, feigning as if you remembered him. 

"So, we're supposed to break up into pairs and I was wondering if you'd want to be my partner?" 

You weren't sure what tipped you off, but you had a sudden, strong feeling like you were being watched. You glanced to the side to see Coach Negan regarding you and Sam with a look you didn't really recognize. He looked like he was annoyed, but trying to hide it. 

"Sure," you agreed when you looked back at Sam. "Sounds fun," you lied. 

You followed Sam over towards Coach Negan where he was doling out equipment. 

"Alright, have you decided your roles?" 

"Uh, I think I'm pitching and she's catching," Sam answered. 

Negan snorted before he turned away from the two of you to grab the mitts. "You wish, buddy," you heard him mutter. 

You glanced to Sam, wondering if he caught it. From the blush on his face, you knew he had heard Negan's words as well. 

"Here you go," Negan said as he tossed the baseball mitts to Sam. "Go pick up your balls over there," he told Sam as he nodded towards the box filled with baseballs over by the bleachers. "I need to talk to your partner for a moment." 

"Uh, sure," Sam said before he wandered away. 

"You sure you want to work with that kid?" Coach Negan asked you, leaning towards you. “I can always assign pairs.” 

You felt flustered for a moment having his full attention again. It took you a few moments to nod your head in answer. 

"He's fine," you answered. "He seems sweet." 

Coach Negan huffed out a laugh before he reached out to pat you on the shoulder. "Good luck, sweetheart," he told you before he went to assist another pair of students. 

You walked over to Sam when he beckoned you over from his place by the bleachers. "I can catch if you want," he offered. "I know we didn't really talk about it." 

You shook your head, a smile on your face. "It's fine," you assured him. "I don't really care about this class all that much," you confessed. "I'm just here because it's required." 

"Ouch," you heard from behind you. You turned to see Coach Negan standing there, a hand to his chest. "You wound me, sweetheart." 

"I didn't mean--" 

Coach Negan smirked at you. "This class is bullshit. I know," he told you before he looked at Sam. "Well? Are you waiting for an invitation? Pick up your balls and go," Negan snapped at him before he moved to a different pair. 

"He's not like a regular teacher, is he?" Sam asked you, a bewildered look on his face. 

You took a quick moment to check out Negan while his back was turned to you and shook your head. "No. He's not." 

Over the next couple of weeks, you noticed a pattern emerge. You spent most of the class sneaking glances at Negan and he seemed to spend an increasing amount of time instructing you over the other students. 

It started the first week of the baseball unit. You had been growing bored with the lesson by the time the first class was up, but you were determined to see the class through. That meant you would do your best to get a good grade and then move on with your life once it was over. That didn't mean you had to feign an interest in the sports you were meant to be learning. 

"You could try to look like you're not bored out of your skull," you heard in your ear and turned to see Coach Negan standing a bit too close. He had been leaning over to whisper in your ear and he turned a smirk on you before he straightened up. "Come on, Miss Y/N. This is America's pastime. Are you telling me you don't feel an ounce of patriotism playing the sport?" 

You squinted at him and then over at where Sam was waiting for you. "Not really," you answered honestly. 

Negan laughed and put a hand on your shoulder. "I like a little honesty," he told you. He squeezed your shoulder and then let go. "Now get back to work." 

More and more of those moments happened as the class progressed from learning pitching techniques to batting. You felt a little thrill go through you every time you noticed Coach Negan making his way over towards you. It didn't escape your notice that a lot of the time, he seemed to only have eyes for you. 

Another development was your friendship with Sam. You weren't one to really put yourself out there. You had made friends with your roommates out of necessity and a longing for companionship, but you weren't used to just going up to someone and expecting to be welcome. Sam proved to be the kind of person you could easily talk to for hours and never get bored. He had no trouble making you laugh and he always did his best to distract you during class when he could tell you were over the lesson of the day. 

You didn't really think anything of the way Coach Negan seemed to single out Sam during classes whenever he wanted to pick on someone. You didn’t think there was anything to the way he made everyone switch partners every few classes. You told yourself he was a mysterious man and you would likely never really know what was going on in his head. Still, every time Negan picked on Sam, you did your best to make your friend smile again. Coach Negan’s mood seemed to worsen with each class and you wanted to be there for the only real friend you had in the class. 

It was during the second class spent learning the best way to swing a baseball bat when Coach Negan seemed to snap. 

Sam had been joking around with you and trying to make you smile. He had been leisurely swinging the bat in his hands and not really aware that Negan was quickly closing in on the both of you. 

"I know you're not used to handling something that long, but if you don't stop disrupting class, then I'm going to take that bat and hit you over the head with it." 

Sam stopped and turned to stare at Coach Negan, his mouth dropping open in surprise. "Excuse me?" 

"You heard me," Negan snapped. "Why don't you take what you're obviously lacking in your pants and that attitude right off my field?" 

"You can't talk to me like that," Sam argued. You could see his cheeks flushing and you weren't sure if it was because he was embarrassed or furious. 

"I just did," Negan told him. 

Sam huffed out an irritated breath before he dropped the baseball bat to the ground. "I'm reporting you," Sam told Negan before he marched off the field, making sure to grab his bag before he left. 

You watched him go, your eyes wide in disbelief. 

"Guess you'll have to find yourself a new partner. Come by my office after class and we can discuss it," Negan told you before he stormed off to go terrorize another pair of students. 

You had never heard a teacher speak to a student like that before. Coach Negan was usually abrasive and aggressive, but you couldn't help but wonder if there was more to his reaction to Sam. By the time you were standing outside his office, you had managed to work yourself from shock to rage. Sam was your friend and Coach Negan was just a teacher you were unfortunately attracted to. You obviously had to side with Sam. 

You knocked on Coach Negan's door and then barged into his office, not even waiting to see if he was ready for you. You were so angry and hurt on Sam's behalf. He was such a sweet guy, so why did Negan have to be such a dick to him? 

Negan was reclining back in his desk chair, his feet propped up on his desk. He smirked when he saw you storm into his office. 

"I didn't say 'come in,'" he told you. 

"What the hell was that?" You snapped. "Sam didn't do anything to deserve that." 

"Sam," Negan scoffed as he rolled his eyes. He dropped his feet to the floor and sat up in his chair. "That kid couldn't find his dick if you pointed it out to him." 

"You can't say shit like that! Aren't you supposed to be a teacher?" 

Negan quirked an eyebrow at you. "Sweetheart, when I'm in this room, I'll say whatever I damn well please." 

You shook your head. "You're such an asshole," you couldn't help but mutter. 

Negan barked out a laugh at your words. "You can't say shit like that," he echoed you, obviously mocking you. 

"Yeah, well, when you're being an asshole, I'll say whatever I damn well please," you snapped. You knew you should probably shut up. Unless you dropped his class, Coach Negan was still your teacher. He had complete control over your grade. You just couldn’t deny that it felt good to finally give him a piece of your mind. It didn’t matter to you that you were attracted to him. You felt like he had done something wrong and needed to be called out on it. 

Negan considered you for a few moments before a smirk slowly stretched across his face. "You know," he started as he slowly stood from his chair. "I like you." 

As he moved closer to you, you could feel the mood shift suddenly. Your anger on Sam's behalf dropped in the face of Negan's eyes darkening as he considered you. He kept moving closer and you didn't even realize you had been stepping away from him until your back hit the door of his office. He put a hand on either side of your head, boxing you in. 

"What if I don't like you?" You couldn't help but ask. It was a ridiculous question. His personality left a lot to be desired, but you couldn't deny being attracted to the man. 

By Negan's incredulous look, you knew he was calling your bluff. "Sweetheart, based on the many times I've caught you staring at my ass during class, I think it's safe to assume you're just as into this as I am." 

You felt recklessly bold as you met his eyes. "And what if I am?" 

You weren't sure which one of you moved first. You had never been one to take a leap, but for the first time in your life, you wanted to. 

It seemed like from one moment to the next, you were pressed against his office door and then you were helping him out of his t-shirt. You felt like you couldn't catch your breath as you pressed yourself closer to Negan. You shivered when you felt his fingers skim up your sides, raking your shirt up with every movement. You were quick to unbuckle his belt and push his jeans down past his thighs. By the time you were both down to your underwear, you felt like you were going to overheat from the flush on your skin. 

You couldn't help but laugh when you realized that the couch in his office had a fold-out bed. 

“Do this often?” You couldn’t help but ask. It just seemed so ridiculous to you that a couch many students had likely sat on to bitch to him about their grades was also a bed he was about to use to fuck one of his students. 

“Not at all,” he told you before he rolled his eyes at you when you didn’t drop the grin off your face as he pulled the bed out from the couch. When he was done, he wrapped his arm around your waist to bring you closer. You let him lie you down on the bed before you pulled him in, your thoughts racing as you tried to keep up with everything going on. You weren't sure how you had gone from being furious with Coach Negan to having sex with him. 

Later, when you were both sated and content, you remembered the reason for your visit to his office. 

"I'm still mad," you told him. "Sam didn't deserve that." 

"What is it with you and that guy?" Negan groaned as he pulled you closer to him. "Should I be jealous?" 

You rolled your eyes. "Sam is just a friend." It hit you in that moment that you had just had sex with your teacher. You never thought you would be one of those people to pine after a teacher and then actually do something about it, but here you were. 

"Good," Negan said, his hand coming up to brush your hair away from your face. "I've already transferred him to another class." 

"What the hell?" 

"Look, I wasn't about to get bested by my student. We all do things we're not proud of." 

"Yeah, like how I just fucked my teacher." 

"Ooh," he started as he glanced over at you. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?" 

"Seeing as I don't really talk to my parents, no," you told him, rolling your eyes. 

"You've got some real daddy issues, then?" He smirked at you, rolling over until he was pressed against your side. "I could be your daddy," he purred as he reached out a hand to tip your face up into a kiss. 

You indulged him for a moment before you pulled back. 

"Charming," you drawled before you sat up, swinging your legs over until you were sitting on the edge of the bed. 

"Oh, come on, sweetheart. Don't get all riled up." 

You glanced over at him, shooting him an unimpressed look, before you reached down to grab your underwear. "This was a bad idea," you told him. "Stupid," you added with a shake of your head. You weren't really sure if you were calling having sex with a teacher stupid or using that as a term for yourself, but you figured it worked both ways. 

"And where are you off to in such a hurry?" Negan asked as he leaned forward to wrap an arm around your waist. 

“I have class or a study group or something," you muttered, not too bothered with trying to act as if it wasn't all a lie. You just didn't want to give Coach Negan an excuse to think having sex with you could become a habit. You could get expelled. He could get fired. You didn't want to go home and you sure as hell weren't going to get kicked out of school for an illicit affair. 

You managed to stand up, shaking off his hold, and grabbed your jeans to pull them on. You finished getting dressed before you grabbed your bag. You turned to look at him where he was still stretched out on the bed, watching you. 

"I think it's best if this doesn't happen again," you told him. "I'm going to drop your class." 

"What?" He sat up, completely disregarding the fact that he was still naked. "Why would you do a stupid thing like that?" 

"Because," you offered helplessly with a shrug of your shoulders. Because despite how much you weren't a fan of his personality so far, he was still incredibly attractive to you. Because if you stayed in his class, you weren't sure you'd be able to think about anything other than ending up in bed with him. Because you weren't sure seeing him every week was a good idea at this point. 

"Look, sweetheart. We don't have to do this again. It was just a one-time thing, right? We got it out of our systems and we can be done with it." 

You narrowed your eyes at him, not sure you believed him since he managed to sound serious while also looking incredibly smug. 

"Never again?" You couldn't but ask. 

"I promise," Negan told you with a smirk. 

In retrospect, you should have known it was bullshit. 

You thought it would all be okay. No one had to know about you falling into bed with your teacher. You were just going to go to class, get through it, and pretend it never happened. 

Of course, you didn't count on Negan being such a charming asshole. He was there to subtly correct your form when you were trying to perfect your swing so that you hit the ball at least half the time when it was pitched to you. He was there to whisper encouragement in your ear. He was there to quickly trail his fingers along the small of your back when no one was looking. He was there all the time. 

You should have known ending up in his office again was inevitable. You felt like he was drawing you in closer and closer with every class and you were helpless to his pull. With each visit to his office, you knew you were slowly unraveling. 

Over the next few months, as the air lost its final chill and the end of the semester drew near, you started to realize you were well and truly lost where Negan was concerned. You had lost count of the number of times you ended up alone with him in his office. You had started out your relationship so uncertain, but as summer loomed, you knew you were falling for him. 

The first few times you spent with him, you had been so sure you would call it off. You knew you should. It wasn't a good idea and you were bound to get hurt. But then you started getting to really know him and you grew more and more reluctant to leave him in his office after every visit. 

By the time the semester ended and you successfully passed his class, you weren't sure where your relationship with Negan was headed. You wanted to find out, though. That was why you opted to stay on campus during the summer semester. Negan seemed to approve of your choice and even though you hated all the sneaking around, you couldn't help but delude yourself into thinking you might actually have some kind of future with the man. 

Those summer months were some of the best of your life. You ended up getting a job in the school bookstore and you opted to take a couple of summer courses. Of course, Carl was bummed that you weren't coming home for the summer, but you promised to visit before you fall semester started. 

You spent as much free time as you could with Negan. He took you on dates out of town and even brought you to the batting cages just a few towns over. You laughed when he suggested it, but you couldn't deny that you had fun. It also didn't hurt when he stood there in just his t-shirt and jeans and demonstrated just how good he was at swinging a bat. 

When it was your turn, he'd take you by the hips and position your hands just right on the bat, staying pressed as close to you as he could, and whispered tips in your ear. You had never imagined going to the batting cages would end up being the hottest, most sexually frustrating date of your life, but Negan seemed to always surprise you. 

Sometimes he would take you out for dinner or he would come over to the tiny, shitty apartment you had been renting for the summer. Usually you would order takeout, but one night he decided to make the both of you spaghetti. 

"It's about one of the only damn things I know how to make, baby girl," he muttered when he heard you laughing. He flashed you a grin as he put the water to boil and started pulling ingredients from the bag of groceries he had brought over. 

"You mean there's something you can't do?" You asked, teasing him. 

"Oh, I more than make up for it in other areas," he told you as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in so you were between him and the counter. He tipped your chin up until you were looking at him. "Wouldn't you agree?" 

You smirked up at him before you shrugged your shoulders. "I guess I would." 

"Guess?" Negan scoffed before he reached around you to turn off the burner. "I'll just have to prove it to you, then." 

Later, as you were lying in bed tangled together and dinner was totally forgotten, you reached out to brush your fingers over the stubble on his jaw. "Want to play a game?" 

Negan quirked an eyebrow at you. "I don't think I have it in me to go again so soon, darlin'," he told you with a smirk. "But hell, I could try." 

You grinned and shook your head. "Not that kind of game." 

"Oh?" 

"It's called truth or truth." 

"For fuck's sake, baby girl. That does not sound like my kind of game." 

"Just hold on," you told him as you leaned over him, raising yourself on one arm. "It's like truth or dare, right? But we just trade secrets. It doesn't have to be anything deep or meaningful. It's just something I play to get to know someone." 

"We've been doing this all this time and you feel like you don't know me?" 

"I do," you told him as you started tracing a finger along his chest. "But I don't know the stupid, little stuff. Like what's your favorite color?" 

"Red," Negan readily answered. "Your turn." 

You rolled your eyes. "It doesn't work like that, but okay." You thought for a few moments before you decided on your truth. "You know those gummy sour candies? The ones that look like little people?" You waited for Negan to nod his head before continuing. "They're my favorite." 

Negan made a disgusted face at that. "How the hell can you eat those things?" 

You shrugged your shoulders, offering him an amused grin. "I like what I like, okay? Just be grateful I like _you_." 

"Oh, you like me, huh?" Negan asked with a grin. "Well, shit, sweetheart. I count myself lucky." 

You never did end up eating dinner that night and that wasn't the only time you played truth or truth with Negan. You made it a habit to bring up the game every couple of weeks, mostly because you loved the exasperated expression that crossed Negan's face when you asked him to play. He was humoring you and you knew it, but you didn't really care. 

Over time, you slowly got to know him. He admitted that he had a soft spot for dogs when he was younger and would take in strays when he could. He told you that he was a widow and that his wife died before they were able to have kids. He told you they were never lucky in that department and you tried your best to comfort him when he seemed to fall apart and make himself vulnerable in front of you for the first time. 

In turn, you told him about your parent's neglect and that you would do anything for your baby brother. You told him about your uncle who was more like a father to you than anything else. You confided in him and found yourself sharing things with him you had never shared with anyone else. 

By the time the fall semester started, you knew you were well on your way to falling in love with Negan. There was a small part of you that was worried you were already there. You weren’t sure he felt the same way and a part of you was terrified of being the only one to fall. You knew he cared about you and liked you, but did he actually love you? 

It felt like your relationship only continued to deepen from there. Despite being loaded down by coursework and managing to keep your job in the college bookstore, you still made trips to Negan's office. You were back in a dorm room with your roommates, so you couldn't have him over anymore, but you couldn't help but think that if things kept going the way they were, you would happily invest in an apartment for the spring semester. 

Through your job, you were also able to reconnect with Sam. He came in looking for a textbook for his philosophy course and you got to talking to him. You made plans to hang out and exchanged numbers. You realized that you had missed Sam and having someone to talk to who wasn't one of your roommates or Negan. 

Negan didn’t seem to like that you were back to being friends with Sam, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. You got to know Sam again and within a few weeks, he became the closest thing you had to a best friend. 

As the fall semester progressed, you couldn't help but feel like everything was falling into place for you. You had a best friend, your roommates, and you were in love. You felt like you were finally finding a place for yourself after feeling like you didn't belong for most of your life. 

You really should have known it wouldn't last. 

You decided to go home for Christmas, since you wanted to spend the holiday with Carl. You spent a week at home pretending not to notice when your parents fought and doing your best to spoil Carl. You watched his eyes light up when you gifted him with enough comic books to keep him entertained for a month. You felt like you had done your job as a big sister when you noticed the expression of almost pure joy that crossed his face. 

"Where did you get all these?" He asked, awe clear in his voice. "They're all for me?" 

"Of course they are," you told him with a grin. "You don't see anyone else with the name Carl around here, do you?" You asked as you tapped the discarded gift tag on the floor. 

Carl rolled his eyes before he proceeded to ignore you in favor of reading one of the comic books. 

By the end of your week at home, you had managed to spend as much time with Carl as you could and made sure to see Shane so you could give him his gift. You had even managed to have a nice Christmas dinner with your parents, Shane, and Carl. It was a nice and peaceful Christmas for the first time in years and you felt hopeful that maybe everything would turn out okay. 

You went back to campus for New Year's Eve. You had plans to spend the night with Negan and ring in the beginning of a new year with him. 

There was a part of you that didn't care that you couldn't spend time in public with Negan or bring him home to your family. You certainly didn't want to get kicked out of school and you knew that if your dad or Shane found out you were in a relationship with a teacher, then they would both be tempted to have Negan fired or kill him. You didn't know if it was because it was the first time you had ever felt this way about someone, but you just didn't care about any possible consequences. You felt so invincible when you were with Negan. You felt like you could do anything or be anyone and it was intoxicating. 

Negan ended up getting a hotel room for the both of you for the night. You spent most of the night in bed and drinking champagne, feeling like the next year of your life had to be the best one yet if the past few months were any indication. 

Time was ticking down to midnight and even though you were getting tired, you resolved to stay awake. You wanted to celebrate a new year by kissing Negan and being held by him. You hoped that if the old saying was true, then it was what you would spend the next year doing. 

"Oh, I got something for you, darlin'," Negan told you. He pulled back the sheets before he pushed himself out of bed. 

"I thought we weren't exchanging gifts," you reminded him. You reclined back on the pillows, taking a moment to enjoy the view as he walked across the room to rifle through his duffle bag. 

"I just didn't want you getting me anything," he said before he glanced back at you. He smirked when he noticed he had your full attention. "Close your eyes, baby girl." 

You sighed, feigning frustration, before you closed your eyes. You could hear him getting closer to the bed before he tugged on your hands so you were holding them out in front of you. You felt him place what felt like a plastic bag in them before he settled on the bed beside you. 

"Open your eyes," he instructed you. 

You opened them to see a bag of your favorite candy resting in your palms. You let out an incredulous laugh before you glanced over to see a smug grin on Negan's face. 

"You remembered that?" 

"Of course I did, sweetheart. Now, aren't you going to open your present?" 

You rolled your eyes before you opened the bag, immediately reaching in to grab a couple of the candies to pop into your mouth. Negan sighed before he stole one from the bag and tried it. His face twisted up in disgust and he shook his head. 

"That's terrible. How can you eat that shit?" 

"Many years of practice," you told him with a grin. 

Negan shook his head before his hand snuck forward to steal another piece. 

You couldn't help but shoot him a questioning look. 

He shrugged his shoulders as he ate his second piece of candy. "It seems like an acquired taste," he told you as he scrunched his face up once the sour taste hit him. 

You couldn't help but laugh again as you leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. "God, I really do love you," you blurted out, feeling your eyes go wide when the words escaped. 

Negan pulled in a sharp breath before he glanced at you. "You really mean it, sweetheart?" 

You felt a blush starting to flush your cheeks before you nodded your head. 

"Well, shit," Negan breathed before he pulled you into a kiss. He rolled you over until you were on top, his hands braced on your hips. You watched helplessly as the bag of candy fell to the floor, scattering pieces everywhere. "Don't worry about that, darlin'," Negan said. "I'll get you more." 

“Promise?” You couldn’t help but ask. 

“On my life,” Negan swore before he pulled you down into another kiss. 

You lost yourself to Negan over and over again for the rest of that night. 

You were sad when you checked out of the hotel the next day, knowing you had to go back to the real world. 

"I'll see you soon?" You asked Negan with one final kiss before you parted. 

"I promise," Negan told you before he pulled away from you. 

You had a few days between the holidays and starting a new semester, so you took the time to take extra shifts at work and hang out with Sam. Most of your roommates were still away visiting their families, so the both of you made good use of your empty dorm room by watching movies as loud as you wanted and eating as much junk food as you could without worrying about one of your roommates stealing your snacks. 

You didn't get to see Negan, though. You talked to him on the phone, but he seemed different. Distant. You asked him about going to dinner or risking going to a movie theater a few towns over, but he always said he had something else going on. With a new semester approaching, you just assumed he was getting ready for his classes. 

As the spring semester rolled in, you noticed everything take a drastic change. You went from seeing Negan a few times a week to once a week if you were lucky. With each date, he seemed to be pulling further and further away from you and you didn't understand what was going on. You began to lean more on your roommates and Sam in an effort to not feel as lonely. You couldn't help but think that you had finally let someone in and felt like you belonged and now that it was slipping through your grasp, you weren't sure if you could go back to feeling like you didn't belong with anyone or anywhere. 

As the air outside warmed and your relationship fell apart, world events seemed to start taking a turn. You thought it was nothing to worry about. There were news stories about an unprecedented illness and the CDC taking every precaution in an effort to eradicate the illness. All of the stories seemed to claim the military had it handled, but to avoid large crowds. They cautioned people to be vigilant and if someone came into contact with a sick person, then they were meant to isolate themselves immediately before reporting the incident. 

You didn't think it applied to you. You had read about new illnesses cropping up before and you were sure with modern technology things would be solved soon. You had every hope that your life would turn around. 

The day your world imploded was the last day you lived anything like a normal life. 

You were on your way to your literature professor's office when you overheard two teachers talking. 

"It's such a shame," you heard one of them say. 

You were going to keep walking until the next words caught your attention. 

"About Coach Negan? I know. I can't even imagine what he's going through. A sick wife in the hospital on her death bed? And from what I hear, it all happened so fast too." 

"I hear he's been a wreck," muttered the other teacher. "He's been visiting her every day in the hospital, but from what I hear, she probably won't be leaving." 

You heard the second teacher groan. "Seriously, fuck cancer. We should see if someone can cover his classes." 

You didn't stick around to hear any more. You somehow ended up back in your dorm room. You weren't sure when you got there or how you had made it all the way across campus, but you felt like you couldn't breathe. One of your roommates was sitting on the couch in the common area when you walked in, but you were quick to wave off her concern. You locked yourself in your room, grateful that the girl you shared the room with had classes for the rest of the day. 

You felt like you couldn't breathe as you sat on your bed, trying to digest everything. The man you had been so sure you were in love with was married. The first love of your life was one big lie. You had fooled yourself into thinking anything about Negan was real. You knew now that he probably never loved you. If he could easily pretend his wife was dead this whole time just to get in your pants, then there was probably nothing honest about him. All those dates and kisses and nights spent with him were all fake. 

You felt like an idiot as you grabbed your cell phone with a trembling hand. You dialed his number, trying to calm your breaths as you listened to the line ring. 

"Hello?" 

"Is it true?" You could barely get the words out and you couldn't stop yourself from shaking. 

"Is what true?" 

"You know. You fucking know," you spat. "Are you married? Your wife, is she in the hospital?" 

You heard him suck in a startled breath and you knew that he had just confirmed it for you. 

"Listen, we can't do this anymore," Negan started, his voice rough. He sounded like he hadn’t been sleeping much lately and if you weren’t quickly losing every ounce of respect for him, then you might have taken a moment to care. 

You barked out a laugh. "Are you fucking kidding me?" 

"It was fun while it lasted, right?" His voice had gone flat, as if he was already shutting down. 

"I loved you, you asshole," you snarled, feeling like your whole world was shaking apart. 

"Oh, baby girl," he said before you heard him chuckle. "I'm sure you did. But you know what I think? I think you should really sort out those daddy issues." 

You felt rage and anger threaten to overwhelm you for a moment. You weren't sure what you were going to say until the words fell from your mouth. 

"I hope you fucking drop dead, you dick," you spat before you ended the call. 

You weren't sure how long you spent there on your bed, crying your eyes out and screaming into your pillow, before you finally picked up your phone again. You were surprised to see that it had been hours. You had missed your classes and your shift at the bookstore. It was nearing ten at night and you wondered for a moment why your roommate wasn't back yet. 

You shook off the thought before you unlocked your phone. You had foolishly hoped that Negan had reached out to you to tell you it was all some elaborate prank, but you didn't have any missed calls or text messages. 

You scrolled through your contacts before you landed on Sam's name. 

You waited for him to answer. 

"Y/N? You okay? What's going on?" 

"Can you come over?" You asked, feeling worried for a moment that he would reject you. Sam was the only person you trusted at the moment. You knew he wouldn't judge you for what happened with Negan and you felt like you needed to come clean to someone. You had well and truly made a mess of your life and you wanted to finally confess to someone. 

"Yeah, sure. Give me ten minutes," Sam told you before he hung up. 

You managed to crawl off your bed and made sure your hair wasn't a mess. You knew you looked rough, but you didn't care. You were still in your jeans and t-shirt, so you didn't have to worry about changing. Sam wouldn't care if you were in your pajamas, but you still needed to feel like you were making some kind of an effort. If you let yourself wallow now, then you weren't sure you would be able to pull yourself out of it for some time. 

You moved into the common room and greeted your roommate. She was still sitting on the couch watching television, so you joined her while you waited for Sam. 

You kept checking your phone over the next couple of hours, but Sam never showed up. You were just about to call him, worry beginning to overtake you, when there was a knocking sound at the door. Your roommate was already in the small kitchenette, so she waved you off when you went to get up from the couch. 

"I've got it," she assured you before she moved to answer the door. 

The next few moments seemed to be a blur to you. It seemed like one moment, you were experiencing your first real heartbreak and waiting on your best friend to show up. The next, a girl from down the hall was stumbling through the door, snarling and hissing as she launched himself at your roommate. You watched in horror as her teeth ripped into your roommate's throat and you were quick to get to your feet. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" You yelled, feeling as if your feet were rooted to the floor. You warred between running away and rushing forward to help your roommate. 

The girl wasn't paying attention to you, though. She was busy clawing and tearing at your roommate. Your roommate was screaming and as you finally moved forward to help her, you felt your breath rush out of you when she suddenly stopped moving. You watched her blood pool beneath her as the girl from down the hall continued eating her and you tried your best to process what was happening. It wasn't until the girl seemingly grew bored with your roommate and turned her attention on you that you finally forced yourself to move. 

You rushed to your room, narrowly managing to push your door shut and lock it before you heard the girl begin to crash against your bedroom door. You shuddered and stumbled back, your mind racing as you tried to figure out what you were meant to be doing. 

You thought of all the news stories and the illness that had been spreading across the country. There had never been any reports of it anywhere near campus, though. But obviously you should have worried about it this whole time. You should have paid more attention. You had been so involved in your own personal problems that you hadn’t taken a moment to consider the fact that there was something bigger happening. 

You thought of your family a couple of states away. You wondered if they were in trouble. You thought of what your uncle would have you do in that moment and you rushed to grab your backpack. He would want you to figure out a way to survive. He would tell you to make a plan and quick before it was too late. 

You couldn't stay there if you had any chance of getting away. You had to make a run for it, because if the illness was here on campus and the end result was anything like the girl clawing at your door, then you knew you couldn't stay. 

You cleared out the contents of your backpack and moved to rummage through the box of snacks you knew you roommate kept under her bed. There were a few small bags of chips and two candy bars. You were glad that she usually had a craving for a midnight snack and never felt like leaving her bed to indulge in it as you grabbed what you could. You stuffed a few t-shirts in your backpack and an extra pair of pants. 

There was a banging noise at your door and you felt yourself shiver when it sounded like the girl from down the hall had company. You weren't sure if it was your roommate somehow revived by the virus or if it was someone else, but you had no intent to find out. 

You stuffed your feet inside your tennis shoes and grabbed your cell phone. You weren't sure if you needed a weapon, but you couldn't help but think it didn't hurt to be prepared. You took out your pair of scissors from the cup of office supplies on your desk and searched through your desk drawers for anything else that might be helpful. You settled on a screwdriver you had accidentally stolen from your roommate's boyfriend when he had been over to fix her desk. 

You took a deep breath as you walked over to your window. You knew that this would likely be the last time you were here and you felt tears well in your eyes at the thought of the nightmare that was likely waiting for you outside. 

What you imagined was nothing like the reality you were faced with, though. Once you managed to climb out of your dorm window and drop down to the ground, you could hear the rattling and hissing breaths. There were shadows moving all over and you couldn’t make yourself focus long enough to figure out if they were the infected or someone lucky enough not to be affected yet. You couldn't see well, since it was so dark, but you weren't going to take a chance on using your phone as a flashlight. The last thing you wanted to do was call attention to yourself. 

You took off running, not sure about where you were going, but knowing you needed to get away. You didn't get far before you tripped over something and fell to the ground. You scrambled to stand back up and felt yourself shudder when you finally managed to make out what had caused you to stumble. 

"Sam," you breathed in terror. You couldn't help but look at the remains of your best friend, shocked that this is what had become of him. You felt guilty for a few moments, thinking that if you hadn't called him and asked him to come over, then he would probably still be alive. You couldn't stop shaking as you noticed his body was twitching. His fingers were curling and it looked like his eyes were struggling to open. You knew he wasn't alive. No one could survive having their intestines ripped out and half their chest devoured. You took a few halting steps away from Sam, feeling tears falling freely down your face, before you finally managed to turn away and run. 

You were sure it was adrenaline that carried you through the night. Dead bodies and the walking dead had littered the campus. You heard screams and people shouting, but you never attempted to seek out the living. You weren't sure if you could trust anyone and you knew that your best shot at surviving was getting as far away from campus as you could. 

You didn't know where you could go, but all you wanted so fiercely as you forced yourself to keep moving was to go home. You wanted the comfort of your old room. You wanted to see with your own eyes that your parents were okay and that Carl was safe and sound. You wanted to seek out your uncle Shane like you always did when you were a little kid and terrified or heartbroken. 

It wasn't until the next morning that you finally forced yourself to stop. Your feet were starting to drag and your eyes were burning with exhaustion. Your leg muscles felt like they were on fire and you knew that if you didn't get some kind of rest, then you were going to collapse at the worst moment. 

You were in a neighborhood you didn't recognize. You didn't think it was safe to break into a house, in case the infected were inside, but you figured one of the houses had to have a tree house. It seemed to be a common suburban theme and you knew that if anything, being up high and off the ground would give you the best protection. 

It took you half an hour to find what you were looking for. You had to avoid a small group of the reanimated and then had to keep a constant watch on your surroundings. When you found the tiny treehouse tucked up in the branches of an oak tree, you couldn’t help but cry in relief. You were exhausted and hungry. You were terrified and still trying to shake off the shock of the previous day and night. You knew that were running on fumes, so having a temporary shelter for just a moment had you feeling a tiny bit of hope that you would make it through. 

You were quick to climb the rope ladder, checking every so often to make sure you hadn't been spotted. Once you got to the top, you quickly pulled the rope ladder up into the treehouse with you. You weren't sure if the infected would be able to climb it, but you didn't want to take any chances. 

You felt like you were going to start crying again when you turned to see the sleeping bag waiting in the corner. There was a tiny table with two tiny chairs with boxes of crayons and coloring books strewn across the surface of the table. You couldn't even imagine what had become of the kids who used to play in the treehouse, but you reckoned it couldn't be anything good. 

You took a few moments to breathe before you pulled your cell phone out of your backpack. You noticed you only had seven percent battery left, but if you were lucky, then that's all you would need. 

You called home. You waited as the line rang, but no one answered. You called over and over again, but you never heard a response. You tried not to think of your family infected or dead or torn to pieces. You tried to hope that they had gotten out if the neighborhood was swarmed like your campus. You told yourself they just might not be able to answer the house phone. Maybe they were preparing to face the worst and just didn't have time to pick up the landline. You tried your dad's cell phone and your mom's. You tried calling your uncle, but he didn't answer either. 

You tried not to let out a scream of frustration when you pulled your phone away from your ear to see only three percent battery left. You felt like you didn’t have a connection to anyone now and you knew that if you didn’t get at least a hint about the fate of your loved ones then you were going to lose it. 

It was then you noticed the envelope icon in the top left corner of your phone screen and felt a thrill of hope shoot through you at the sight of it. You had a voicemail. You hoped and prayed it was one of your family members, but you weren't prepared to hear Negan's voice when you eagerly checked your messages. 

"Hey, sweetheart. So, the world went to shit pretty fuckin' quickly." He huffed out a laugh that sounded a hell of a lot like a sob to you. "I don't know where you are or if you're even alive, but I wanted to tell you to watch out for yourself. A good hit to the head seems to take care of the infected, so if you get cornered, swing for the head." He sucked in a shuddering breath before he spoke again. "Take care of yourself, darlin'." 

You heard the automated voice inform you it was the end of the message. Before it could ask if you wanted to save the message or repeat it, your phone died. 

You pulled your phone away from your ear and knew you had no way to save it. You didn't grab your charger. You likely wouldn't be able to stay anywhere long enough to charge it again. You were shaking with everything you weren't allowing yourself to feel in that moment as you stared at the black screen. 

Anger. Fear. Heartbreak. Frustration. Shock. 

Before you could even think of what you were doing, you went to the window of the treehouse and threw your phone out. You felt so hopeless as you listened to the crack of the screen splitting as it hit the ground. You stifled a sob as you dropped to your knees and stared helplessly down at your last connection to everyone you knew shattered below you. 

You were well and truly alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not in any way condone student/teacher relationships. As you can see, this isn't exactly a happy ending. You'll also be able to tell I bullshit my way through the PE course with this. That's because I dropped out of college before I could complete mine due to severe anxiety/social anxiety. So...yeah. Sorry about that. 
> 
> This fic has given me such anxiety over the past week. I didn't mean to write a 10k fic about this? Especially since I didn't even seriously think about it until a week ago. It just happened. So, I hope if you made it this far, then you at least enjoyed it. I tried my best. Also, I started watching Dead to Me this week and I used part of a storyline to inspire some of the truth or truth confessions. 
> 
> I'm going back to working on the headcanons for season 4, 5, and 6 and then the sequel for MMUtS. I swear I didn't mean to take a detour.


End file.
